


An Experiment Returned

by crestedhearts (orphan_account)



Series: Red Strings (Sephiroth) [9]
Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crestedhearts
Summary: You get your exams done. It does not end well.
Relationships: Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII)/Reader
Series: Red Strings (Sephiroth) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757899
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	An Experiment Returned

YOU SAT ON THE COLD steel table with enough adrenaline in your veins to kill a horse. No amount of pep talk could stop your fight or fight response the moment you had entered the laboratory─no matter that the nurse on standby had told you it was an entirely separate wing from Hojo's as she looked down at your file. A file that was suspiciously thicker than the one Reno had given you with all of your normal medical history in it, experimentation redacted.

They had taken your purse, with it your materia, your clothes, your socks, your shoes, your undergarments, and even your earrings, claiming any of it could be used as a weapon. You were keen to find out if ankle socks could be used as weapons, but the nurse had shoved a paper gown at you and escorted you to a room with your chart hooked on it.

In the middle of the room was the exam table you sat on, but it was outfitted with various different equipment that allowed it to be both a gynecology chair and a restraint system. You didn't like that at all, toying with the sleeves of your gown, and trying your best not to shake from the cold. It was well below sixty degrees and without your warm clothes, you would turn into an icicle before your exam was even over.

When you first sat down, you tried to avoid looking at the plastic wrapped equipment laid out on the table. Not even the sheer blue dye in that plastic could stop you from spotting a scalpel and a drill, but that wasn't even the worst part. You saw pliers, small metal hammers, picks for what looked to be made for teeth, and enough gauze to make a giant stuffed chocobo.

It didn't help that the entire room smelled like blood. The antiseptic dulled the odor only faintly, but you could still make it out, an iron tinged undertone beneath bleach and cleanser. There were little stains on the ceiling that were dark and looked like they hadn't been scrubbed in a long while.

A computer sat in a corner, and beside it, a steaming hot cup of coffee that you assumed belonged to the doctor. It made your stomach cramp with hunger, but hospital coffee was never good and you had a feeling you would be throwing your guts up if you even tried a sip.

Before you could find anything else to analyze further and scare yourself even more, the door creaked open on steel hinges. It was a loud, screeching sound that made you want to curl in on yourself instinctively, because it sounded just like the door to your cell in Hojo's facility.

"Good evening, Miss [Surname]." You swallowed a bit of bile at the sound of the feminine voice. You had, for a split second, been expecting Hojo─if Reno hadn't been thoughtful enough of you to pull some strings, you would be staring at him right now. Instead, you found a short, quaint woman greeting you, with a cute face and giant glasses. "How are you? You're very pale."

"I don't have a good experience with… doctors," you replied sourly, stomach churning wildly. "Can we get this over with? Fast?"

"Of course. Reno told me about your issues." Issues? Not PTSD? Issues? Your eyebrows furrowed. "You were very nervous while my assistant took your vitals. One hundred and forty over one hundred?"

"I'm still nervous."

"I can see that." She flipped over to a paper on the second page and hummed. "You have a hemoglobin test up first. It's just a finger prick, nothing serious. We'll take a look at that and go from there."

You knew more serious things were coming to you. You eyed the scalpel the entire time she pricked your finger with a needle and inserted a strip into the machine.

"Alright. Can you stand up for me? I need to check your spine and movement while we wait for that to read."

You did what she asked: bending over with your gown untied, walked in a straight line, bent your knees and elbows, did a few squats to test your hips, and rotated your arm sockets to make sure nothing caught up in them. She nodded every time she was pleased and checked off some list she had on her clipboard, writing notes in the margins.

"How old are you, Miss [Surname]?"

"Twenty-three." You got back up on the table. "Isn't it all in my file?"

"Yes, but I confirm with the patient to make sure the office didn't make any mistakes." Before she could ask anymore questions, the machine beeped loudly, signaling the test was done. She peered over at the numbers. You watched her eyes go wide as saucers. "Your hemoglobin count is four point six. You shouldn't even be walking right now. Do you feel dizzy? Tired? Faint? Achy?"

"No." You jerked backwards when she approached you hastily, reaching for your eyes to check them. "Wait a minute!"

"Your chart says you're blind, but you're clearly not," she hummed, reaching again and peeling back your eyelid, shining a flashlight in your eye. "Hmm. Your pupils are very responsive… Blink for me." You did. "Interesting. I wonder how Hojo didn't take note of this."

Anger welled up inside you. Hearing his name set you off. You shoved her back with a firm foot in her stomach, kicking with enough force to make her slam into the counter. "Back. Off!"

"Heightened anger, too," she went on, as if you hadn't spoken, her voice winded. She scribbled something into her file again. "Since you can see, I assume you must have a SOLDIER for a soulmate?"

You scowled. "Yes. I guess. That's what everyone says, anyways; I wasn't able to see when I met them."

"I see." She clicked her pen closed and held up her stethoscope. "Let me listen to your heart. Please."

She did, and took more blood samples, not even hesitant in taking any of it despite your hemoglobin levels. She pressed onto your sternum, your stomach, then your abdomen, her eyebrows furrowing when she felt around your uterus. You, however, went so numb with pain when she reached your abdomen that you couldn't even speak.

"Interesting… Your uterus feels perhaps larger than it should be. I'll need to get samples from you for testing; you may have cancer or an infection." She felt even lower, pressing right on your pelvic bone. "And this feels a bit wide. You haven't bore children before, have you?"

You recovered enough of your voice to speak, the pain making it crack. "No."

"Hmm." She reached for her clipboard and wrote something down. "This calls for more testing. Let's get your feet in the stirrups, please. I'm curious to see what's going on inside. I'll be swabbing for cells and inserting a small camera to make sure you aren't developing inflammation in your ovaries."

You sat through the swabs, somewhat uncomfortable, feeling bile climb up your throat at the pressure. Then, she removed them, popped them into a vial, and rolled over her laptop and plugged in a sterile camera line.

She positioned it so you were allowed to see as well, even though you didn't want to, and carefully inserted the camera. "Tell me if you feel any pain."

The first couple of inches were normal and pink. You could make out a little bit where she was at, but you didn't know enough to know what was okay or unusual, until she reached somewhere in the middle where it began turning colors. It went from pink to such a deep purple color that it was almost black; if it weren't for the light attached, you wouldn't have been able to tell it at all. You felt sick to your stomach and pilfered for the garbage can beside the table, throwing up in it the moment you got your mouth over it.

She still kept going, but her face was pale. "It seems Hojo got what he wanted, after all these years."

That made you even sicker. She pulled out the camera while you continued to throw up, covering you up and lowering the stirrups. She picked up her board, wrote something down, and left the room as if she had never been there in the first place.

You raised your head from the garbage can with a tiny sob, looking up at the frozen picture on the screen. She had went even deeper, to your ovaries themselves, and the color had changed once again, dark purple streamlined with bright green. Mako.

"Oh, gods," you choked, retching back into the garbage. You heaved, but had nothing left to give. "No…"

The door opened once again. You didn't look up, thinking the doctor had come back to check on you, stomach clenching painfully.

"When I heard my failed experiment was here, I just had to come see for myself." Your heart dropped dead into your stomach. You looked up, slowly, spit dripping from your mouth. The door shut and locked. "Look at you. All grown up and mature. Perhaps that's what she was waiting on: for you to mature. An oversight, of course, but I can make amends."

Your mind went terrifyingly blank at the black goggles staring at you. The strong scent of undiluted bleach. The odor of death and infection.

Hojo.

"Imagine my surprise when I saw your chart logged into the database!" He cackled, approaching you with slow, measured steps. "It was almost too good to be true. And here you are, back where you started, a gift to me from Rufus Shinra. How lucky am I?"

"I-I'm not your fucking gift," you stuttered, shuffling backwards the closer he got. Your fingers hit the edges of the table. Clenched around a dirty scalpel. "Leave me alone. I'm a failure. You don't want anything to do with me."

"Oh, but your file says otherwise." His tone was dark and sinister as he walked the edge of the table. "I succeeded, just not in the area I had wanted at the time. I had originally wanted to have your eyes for her to see through; I got a perfect incubator instead. Isn't it wonderful? You can bear her children now!"

"No," you gasped, mouth trembling. Your fist tighened against the scalpel, fingers breaking out in a cold sweat. "No, I won't. Fuck you. Fuck Jenova!"

You rammed the scalpel forward. It sunk home in his shoulder, scraped against bone; you pushed it deeper, drawing on your fear and adrenaline. When he hit the floor screaming, writhing in pain, you leapt off of the table and snatched the unredacted files off of the counter.

The pain that shot up your stomach was nearly unbearable, as if simply being aware of it incited pain. You staggered to the door and unlocked it, moving clumsily down the hall with a hand pressed to the wall. If you had any food in your body, you would have vomited again when you reached the lobby. Instead, sitting in one of the chairs and getting his blood pressure read, was a godsend: Rude.

"Rude," you wheezed, collapsing to your knees when they wouldn't support your weight. The shock continued to get to you, your vision blacking out─or was that the routine? You didn't know. "Rude…"

"[Name]?" He ripped the bloodpressure cuff off and gently moved the nurse to the side. He caught you around the shoulders just before you faceplanted into the floor, eyes wide behind his glasses as you smothered your panicked sobs into his sleeve. "What's going on here?"

"Hojo," you breathed.

Then your vision went black. After that, so did your conciousness.


End file.
